


slow motion

by feeltripping



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bottom Clarke, Breastplay, F/F, Smut, Top Lexa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:32:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8109592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feeltripping/pseuds/feeltripping
Summary: filled prompt req. for:Toppy Lexa, breastplay.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry you had to wait so long, anon! And I'm sorry it's a bit shorter than I wanted it to be. 
> 
> no beta, please feel free to let me know if there are errors (I'm sure there are)

“Clarke,” Lexa is saying, impatient as she sweeps into the bedroom, shoving her keys in her pocket. “We’re going to be--” she stops, frozen in her tracks. 

Clarke draws lipstick, bright and apple red, over her lips. “Okay, hold on. I gotta blot.” She gets halfway across the room before Lexa darts forward, snagging her wrists and holding her still. 

“Let me look at you,” Lexa says, and licks her lips. She rakes her gaze across Clarke’s face, perfectly done blonde waves still hot from the curling iron and blended eyeshadow, brightening the blue of her eyes. Clarke is wearing a gauzy top, pale pink and see through, her bra boldly dark. “We could--” Lexa starts. 

Clarke presses a finger to her lips, shushing. “No.”

Lexa frowns against her finger. Then she pouts, looking at Clarke from lowered lashes. “But--”

“We’re going to Octavia and Lincoln’s housewarming. Get my coat.” Lexa’s face goes mulish. One hand drifts to squeeze Clarke’s breast through her blouse, rubbing a nail along the cup of the bra. “Lexa.”

Lexa blows out a sigh, lips quirking when Clarke giggles at her show of misery. Clarke opens her mouth to ask for a tissue and Lexa bends to lick her throat, silencing her. “Would you,” Lexa murmurs. She pulls her shirt out from where it’s tucked into her pants, baring her navel. Her hand presses against the back of Clarke’s head, gentle, and Clarke lets Lexa move her, bending to press a perfect imprint of her lips just to the left of Lexa’s belly button. “Perfect,” Lexa says, dark and pleased, and Clarke shivers while Lexa tucks her shirt back in, takes her hand.

++

Clarke waits until she catches Lexa’s eye, sitting on the couch with Raven while Lexa chats with Lincoln against the wall. She undoes the top button of her shirt and Lexa stills, attention pointed at her like a hunting dog. Clarke undoes another button and Lexa swallows. Clarke crosses her arms across her sternum and pushes up, slightly. Lexa crosses the room in the middle of Lincoln’s sentence, settling behind Clarke and kissing her forehead. “Gross,” Raven mutters, turning to shout at Bellamy, and Lexa gropes her, a quick fondle hidden by a backhug. 

“We need to leave,” Lexa says into her ear. 

Clarke leans away and flicks her nose. “Not yet.”

++

Clarke pulls Lexa into the bathroom while they’re cutting the cake and unbuttons her shirt so fast she’s worried she’ll rip the fabric, Lexa lifting her up to sit on the counter and burying her face in Clarke’s chest, pushing her breasts together, massaging with her hands, licking wildly, tongue wriggling to fit beneath the fabric of her bra. 

“Okay,” Clarke says when someone knocks on the door, “yeah, we gotta go.”

++

Lexa rolls onto her back, hands firm on Clarke’s waist, drawing her up to straddle Lexa’s waist. Clarke bends to kiss her and Lexa nudges her back, gentle, after just a moment. Clarke is bent over her, hair draping to tickle Lexa’s skin, and Lexa cups her breasts, lifting gently, squeezing in a rolling rhythm. Clarke rocks, lazy slow movements, tiny, and breathes harder, her mouth parting. Lexa drops her hands to Clarke’s hips and slides around to her back, fingers in the spaces between the knobs of Clarke’s spine. She murmurs Clarke’s name, wet and wanting, and positions Clarke with guiding pressure, gentle, until she can lift her head up to mouth at Clarke’s nipples, sucking gently, tongue flicking in circles. Clarke shivers, pressing down, and Lexa makes a hungry noise on the underside of Clarke’s left breast. She nips, the softest press of her teeth, and Clarke makes a noise, high and reedy. Lexa makes two circles, her hands planted on Clarke’s shoulder blades, pressing Clarke down onto her mouth.

“Hold on,” Lexa breathes, licking Clarke’s skin absently. She nudges Clarke a little, then spreads her palms wide and flat on Clarke’s sides. “Yeah,” Lexa says, licking her lips, and moves her, Clarke going pliant against her hands. Lexa sticks her tongue out, flat and firm, and draws Clarke’s breast across it, her nipple sliding against the wet giving softness of Lexa’s tongue. She does it over and over, until Clarke slumps against Lexa’s chest and bites at her throat, pleading. 

Lexa turns them again, settling Clarke against the bed and tucking a pillow under her head. She shushes her protesting noises with an easy kiss, anchoring, and bites her way down Clarke’s neck from beneath her jaw, sucking flesh into her mouth and feeling Clarke, hot and pulsing, against her tongue before releasing and going just one inch lower, down her shoulder and across Clarke’s pale bicep. Clarke twitches, legs spreading, and Lexa settles between them, lying on top of Clarke with her cheek above Clarke’s chest. She trails her fingers through Clarke’s hair, twirling gently; she rubs her nails in tiny pleasurable circles on Clarke’s scalp. Clarke’s breathing eases, and she murmurs something quiet and intimate, loving. Lexa kisses her chest above her heart. 

“I love you,” she says, and traces Clarke’s collarbones with her tongue, then her teeth. She suckles a gentle lovebite just below the slope of each shoulder, and then in the center of Clarke’s sternum. She kisses along the curve of Clarke’s breasts, slow torturous circles, spiralling up. Clarke babbles, hands pushing at Lexa’s head until Lexa links their fingers and pins her down on the mattress, firm. 

“Lexa,” Clarke says, pleading. Lexa hums against the center of her chest. She lays Clarke’s hands palm down on the sheets and taps against her knuckles, firm. When she slides slender fingers around a nipple, circling feather light, teasing, Clarke moans but keeps her hands still. Lexa makes a satisfied, praising sound, and her lips close gently around Clarke’s other nipple, sucking gently. Clarke’s voice breaks halfway through Lexa’s name, she groans, guttural. Lexa pulls back and kisses the very tip of Clarke’s nipple. Then she switches, lips sealed, tongue flicking, hands massaging. 

Clarke loses track of time, fingers clawed in the sheets, her body thrumming and throbbing, Lexa’s cheeks hollowed around her nipples. She hears snippets of what she’s mumbling, moaning, sobbing Lexa and please and I need-- Lexa straddles one of her legs, blowing a cool stream of air across her chest. Clarke shivers, violent, and moans.

Lexa kisses her, chapped lips. She licks across Clarke’s mouth, tongue dragging, and rests the tips of her knuckles against Clarke’s throat to feel her swallow and shiver. “I think you could come from this,” she says, and she sounds contemplative but her eyes are dark and blown; Clarke can feel her drenched and dripping against her thigh, hips gliding. “Don’t you?”

Clarke shakes her head, eyes squeezing shut. “Lex--”

Lexa licks across her mouth again, dipping in briefly. She rubs Clarke’s clit with her thumb, three hard small circles, and Clarke arches up, a shout wrenched from her chest. She collapses back and Lexa’s attached to her nipple before her back hits the bed and she cries out and keeps going, sobbing babbled nonsense as Lexa bites a little harder, flicks a little faster. 

Clarke comes with her mouth stretched open around a shout, stopped short in her chest, and exhales until her vision greys, shuddering and sucking in desperate lungfuls of air. Lexa purrs two last kisses, and Clarke flinches, oversensitive. Lexa rolls onto her side, gathering Clarke close, and wriggles her arm up Clarke’s torso to fondle her, twitching and sensitive, aftershocks rocking her, while Lexa takes her hand and guides Clarke’s fingers inside her, hips grinding.

**Author's Note:**

> hope it was okay!
> 
>  
> 
> catch me on tumblr @ feeltripping


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